


Tremble For Yourself

by Honey_Rae_Pluto



Series: Short stories [5]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst, Childbirth, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, M/M, Miscarriage, Moving On, Mpreg, Murder, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rape Aftermath, Therapy, Time Skips, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:07:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Rae_Pluto/pseuds/Honey_Rae_Pluto
Summary: As a trauma therapist working for the police, John Deacon has worked in some difficult cases. But none are more difficult than what he's about to find.
Relationships: Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Brian May
Series: Short stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979560
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Tremble For Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!
> 
> Just some warnings, this will be very dark and potentially very triggering. Mentions of implied rape, implied underage non-con, abduction, hurt, mpreg and childbirth, implied miscarried and just generally quite violent implications/ descriptions.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE don't read if this is triggering, I don't want anyone to get hurt because of this - the story is very much centered on these darker themes, and although there is moments of fluff and a happy ending, you can't really avoid the bad stuff.
> 
> On a slightly less serious note, many many thanks to @sweetillusions for the beta read and advice, it really helped me to actually get an ending to the story. This is my first time writing Breaky so I hope it isn't too shabby.

1998

The playground was covered in snow, kids running around everywhere, his friends had run off already, leaving him alone on the far end of the treacherous tarmac patch where the playground met some trees, all fenced off from the roadside. Brian made his way up the back of the smaller trees, walking until they became thicker and the evergreen furs were more shielding, trying to get some peace away from it all, school was too loud for him some days.

"How'd I get to the office?" A small blond boy, a few years younger than him he guessed, came up as he entered the walled-off area, "I'm new."

"Oh, eh... See that big red door? Go straight to it and it's a big green booth." Brian told him, "I'll show you around later if you want."

The boy nodded, thankfully leaving him to his headache. He sat up by a tree, watching carefully as everyone played - he knew he should try join in, but right now this was nice enoug-

"Hey." A man behind the wall startled him, "Boy."

"Hello?" Brian hesitated - he wasn't meant to talk to strangers, looking around him though there wasn’t anyone else he could call to deal with him.

"Hey, don’t worry, I'm a teacher," the man told him, Brian physically relaxed; all safe. "Could you do me a favour?"

"Of course, Mr..?"

"You can call me Cal, little lad." Cal smiled, a sickly sort of twisted thing that was more of a scar on his face than anything pleasant, "Can you climb over the fence and come with me? I'll tell your class teacher why you're late, might even get star of the week."

"Okay..." Brian nodded, that did sound legitimate, how many schools could possibly have star of the week? The man seemed friendly too, helping him over and setting him safely on the ground of the other side, "What do you need?"

"There's some boxes in my car I need help with, come in and help me," Cal led him by the hand down a lane, the snow crunching under his feet, "What's your name, kid?"

"Brian," he told him, looking back. Was this a good idea? He got into the car, hearing the door close behind him. He turned to open it, but Cal had locked it, already getting into the driver’s seat and starting up the engine. "Can I go? I don't want to help you anymore, I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

2018

"Deacon, we need you on site."

John looked up at the police officer from the corner of his office, half way through lunch and had no intention of going away from it, not for any junkie or rapist. "I have an office now, I don't go outside. People come to me, look I’ve got a therapy bed and everything"

"John, this is a massive case, you'll want in on it." Roger shook his head, walking in to steal a chip off of John’s plate, lucky git could get to the canteen earlier than he could, Roger was stuck doing patrol while lunch started.

“Fuck off,” John smacked him, as much as Rog was his best friend at work, he was also a fundamental gobshite. “Whatever it is can wait come here and I’ll talk to them, if it’s so urgent I’m sure Freddie can handle it, actually is he still retraining for child pschol-”

"What was the biggest crime in our lifetimes?"

"Diane and the baked Alaska."

"Actual crime." Roger narrowed his eyes, "One that would require you - a mental fixer - to be involved immediately."

"Diane and the baked Alaska." John repeated, ducking as the book was swung just over where his head had been, "Jeez, I don't know. Madeline?"

"Yeah, but think local."

"May?"

"Uh Uh." Roger nodded, "They reopened the case, Boss says they need you on site."

"So they found the boy's body then," John nodded, "Family needing psychological counseling now? It's been twenty years."

"Must do," Roger shrugged, "But the boss asked for you specifically, the whole case is under huge red tape - the press can’t find out about it, must've been a grim find, seems the poor thing died not too far away either, Banoman Drive, whoever took his did a good job of hiding it."

"Not surprised, kidnappers, abductors; they don't tend to let them be found... Jesus though, I remember this case, it was massive at school, they did head counts several times a day and I wasn’t even in the same school, just the area." 

John thought back, he’d maybe been around four years old, but he remembered the posters on the lamp posts and the teachers always getting angry at them for wandering too far away on trips. Then there was the theories, the documentaries and random stories that would crop up every few years about it, how the boy was likely sold to the organ trade if he was lucky, how someone in Russia or Germany or whatever country the media decided looked sketchy had sent the child into the sex trafficing industry. He remembered people saying at school how they police had found his body in the canal but never admitted it, or how it was actually the parents that had done it, or one of the teachers.

Personally John just guessed the same as most people, the seven year old had been taken, maybe kept alive for a few weeks, months; used in the worst ways then killed. It wasn’t the happiest thing to think about, but he was a trauma psychologist, he knew how these things worked.

"Well yeah, no one actually goes missing, not in real life, kid was bright too, would've been a few years older than us, went to a scholarship school. Mum always reckoned I'd met him - I went to the same school, but he was put up a year anyway," Roger told him, "The asked for SOCO too, so whoever lived at the house is probably dead too. They might have been the kidnapper.”

“Maybe, they don’t tend to move on from where they’ve killed,” John agreed, “I don’t know how they plan to keep the media out of this, it was national news, international maybe.”

“I don’t know why they’re bothering to, I mean it’s sad, but not unexpected,” Roger leaned on the wall, “Brian May... Would've been twenty seven now."

"At least there's closure." John nodded, "And kids might be allowed out to play nowadays."

***

"Sir, what's going on?" John looked around. He'd expected to be talking to family members, or maybe even officers if they were suspicious of someone - that’s if there was anyone still alive from the time.

But no, no he'd been taken to a house in the back of a police van, passing by white tents and miles worth of tape surrounding the property, police blocking the roads either side of it. In the house were whole squads of SOCOs and people with clipboards, every surface being dusted and analysed, blood splatters on the wall, clearly both the body and whatever had caused the blood to come out of it had been taken away.

But that’s not what had caught John’s attention immediately.

There was a child's teddy in the corner of the room, it looked newish - obviously well loved but it couldn’t be more than a few years old. Had the kidnapper taken another child? It didn't look like an old enough crime scene to be Brian’s, two decades had passed and supposedly he’d not had anything with him when he was taken.

"We need you to come through here." The boss told him, a strange look on his face "Sign some waivers too."

"Is it the abductor? Is he still alive?"

"He was already dead when the police found him, had been for a few days - it was neighbours that called complaining about the bins not having been emptied for a few weeks.” he passed John a dark blue folder: a case file, but not a cold case one. “No, no we need you to talk to a Mr May."

"A family member... No?" He watched as he was pointed in the direction of someone sitting in a half empty room, a scrawny man with dark curls and a child clinging to him, both looking very confused. “I don’t understand…”

“This man claims to be Brian May, we’ve already sent away for lab results, don’t know where the girl came from.”

"He's dead though, there's no way it's the same boy."

"The tests they're doing will prove it, but yes. It appears so."

"But Brian May has been missing for twenty years." John shook his head, but the chief wasn’t going to take any shit. He turned to look at the man again, easily malnourished, the girl looked that way a little too, sitting awkwardly on the sofa just holding onto each other, not looking at anyone from the outside. “Oh God…”

He approached quietly, was this out of his expertees? He had dealt with pretty bad cases before, horrific car crashed, torture, domestic abuse, but never something that had lasted the majority of the patient’s life, never so expreme either.

“Hello, Brian, right?” He moved the door to be ajar, best not close them in completely (Brian didn’t look like he’d attack or anything he just didn’t look like trapping him again would be a good option), but best have some privacy.

“Yeah…” Brian watched him sit down on the chair opposite, holding the girl closer to his chest so she wouldn’t be scared.

"What's... What's her name?" John couldn't believe it still, this was a national mystery, a case that everyone knew about - sitting opposite him on a dirty couch.

"She doesn't have one... Cal didn't let her." Brian held her closer, knowing she was shaking in his arms.

"Did Cal take her too?" Presumably the kidnapper, he'd have to see what he was working with more officially later, study the case properly, right now he would deal with the girl, the lesser of the two problems.

"No."

"Where did she come from then? Did she have family before now? If you were involved you won't get in trouble, Brian, you won’t be in trouble" he was speaking so slowly, not that it was putting him at ease, "You're not to blame."

That was true regardless of what Brian had done, no court would take him as mentally sound, not after two decades of exploitation and who knows what else-  
"She's mine," Brian told him, "She's my daughter."

"Right... Okay," John nodded, the girl did have similar enough hair, a lot more matted and tangled, "Do you remember anything about your life before?"

"I'm not allowed to talk about that, Cal says I mustn't."

"It's okay, why don't we get you both seen by some doctors and get you some food," John suggested, glancing through the crack in the door to where the boss was to make sure that was allowed. "Yeah? Yeah."

"I've never left this house..." Brian admitted quietly, standing up. He was quite tall, clothes stopped short of his ankles and wrists and definitely hadn’t been washed in a long time. The girl’s were in a similar state, far too big and tied on though, neither wearing enough for the cold day, "I don't remember how it is outside."

"So you only saw it through windows?" John stood at a distance, but tried to keep his body language warm.

"Not till today," he kept the girl on his hip, "No we were in the basement. Sometimes at night I could go up, if Cal wanted me, but only when the curtains were shut."

2004

“Brian come up here,” It was the middle of the night, Brian hadn’t been able to sleep yet, too cold in the basement, even with the small electric heater in front of his mattress. He looked at Cal standing at the foot of the rickety stairs.

“What’s happening?” Brian stood up immediately, holding the thin duvet around him as he padded across the way, “I’ve been quiet, I have.”

“No lad, you’re not in trouble this time,” Cal took his hand, pulling him up the stairs, opening the hatch, “I’ve got a treat for you.”

“But I’m not allowed upstairs,” Brian hesitated, was it a trick? Cal had done that before, made him break the rules just to get angry at him, “Are you sure?”

“I’ve covered all the windows, lad, don’t worry about that. No this is a good thing, you’re old enough now, nearly fully grown now.”

Brian didn’t argue further, looking at something other than the inside of the basement for the first time in years, wondering if he would be allowed outside into the fresh air, not daring to believe he’d be allowed home, back to his mum and dad - if they still remembered him. He’d do anything just to see the night sky again, to be back when his dad would prop him on his knee and point to all the constellations, he wished he could remember their names, or what they looked like.

He was led through to the house up another set of stairs, up to a bedroom. “Do I get to sleep here?”

“That’s right,” Cal stroked his hair, “Go get in, no clothes. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Brian didn’t even think about it, there was no part of his mind that knew what was about to happen, no reason to question or deliberate - no concept of how life was going to change now.

2018

The drive to the hospital was strange.

John was sitting facing them, backwards to the direction they were travelling, keeping an eye on them. Now the girl was strapped into the car he could see her face, other than the eyes and hair she didn’t look much like Brian, perhaps it was unfortunate, he doubted she was conceived through any willing means, at least she wasn’t old enough for it to have happened when Brian was a child, but still…

"Let's get some of these forms filled out, yeah?" John sat by them, helping him with the seatbelt, "Age?"

"I don't... I don't remember, thirty I think." Brian told him, looking apologetic, as if he expected trouble for not knowing.

"Date of birth?" John tried, smiling softly.

"Don't know, sorry."

"Parents names?"

"Don't know."

"How old is the girl?"

"Two thousand, two hundred and seventy nine days," Brian answered that one confidently, "I was allowed to keep the old kitchen calendars once the year was up, she was born just after new year."

"Right," John nodded, handing him the pen and paper, "If you can just sign at the bottom, so we know it's you."

He watched as Brian awkwardly held the pen, writing his first name in scrawny letters that looked like a child's, the r facing the wrong way, years of not writing having ruined whatever handwriting he did know.

Getting them out took a while, even if they were able to drive up to the back entrance of the hospital to avoid being seen by too many people and not to scare them too much. Brian seemed transfixed by everything, the chewing gum on the pavement, the cars, the doctors and nurses inside. John supposed it made sense, he’d not been around any of these things, never seen any modern cars or anything. It became more and more apparent as they scanned into the building, he could see Brian wanted to ask - must’ve seemed like magic to him.

“It reads the card, lets us in,” John told him, “I’ll explain some other things later, okay? You ask anything you need to.”

Brian nodded, the girl walking alongside him now, looking around with the same level of amazement, fear in some cases. That made sense too, John realised, he’d be scared of other people too if he’d never seen any before, God knows how he was planning to explain touch screens and social media.

Soon the escapees were taken to an exam room, John was allowed to sit in while they did the basics, blood pressure, eye sight, hearing, measuring and weighing, he general consensus was that they were underweight, a lot worse for wear, but nothing immediately life threatening, but they ordered secondary exams anyway.

The medics took over with the questions then, but John stayed put. They asked him a lot, and from that he learned how Cal had kept him until he turned fourteen, then done the unspeakable, from how Brian spoke about it he didn’t know it was bad, he was so plain about it, so menial. Cal had burned that routine into him with an acidic touch, now he was more than numb, he was oblivious.

John took a moment while they were looking at them with the extra tests to add his notes to the case study he had under his arm the whole time, reading it over. He was definitely out of his depth with this, Freddie would need to help with the girl: his child psychology training might be tested to the limit so soon after getting it but John didn’t trust anyone outside of his team with the job.

He looked up as they were finishing up the main physicals, the girl didn't seem injured in at least, but her arm had at one point been broken, a slight bump from where there hadn't been a cast of it, they told John directly that she’d be put down for an operation to fix it, but that it could be held off a while until both of them were situated.

Brian however, was covered in scars. John watched silently as he listed off punishments and beatings that had earned him the marks, talking as if he was listing favourite films, a childish air of someone who had earned something to be proud of in his voice. That made sense though, abusers reinforced their lessons with pain, if he was told he was doing good after the beating it would’ve been no different to giving a child a sparkly sticker.

Did he have the heart to leave this case?

Yes, it was going to be the most difficult case he’d ever do, and with all the legislation and having to shield it from the media it was be an administrative nightmare, every act being done by the book, might not even be a success at the end of the day, they may both need to be sectioned after what had happened.

But he wasn’t abandoning them.

"I think we'll take you to get some food now, just while they're waiting for results," John told him, leading him down the hospital corridors towards the staff canteen - currently closed as they made lunch, but they’d been allowed to go and get whatever was already cooked, "Do you have any preferences?"

Brian shrugged, "Bread, apples too, but that's only if I've been good."

"Right," everything he asked opened a door to thousands of questions, "Does she want some Mac and cheese?"

"Is that something she'd like?" Brian looked lost again, "I don't really remember it from before."

"We'll get you some too, have as much as you need," should help treat the malnutrition, "We'll make sure you're both healthy, start to get some decent calories into you both-"

"I killed him, didn't I?" Brian asked, no real regard for the gravity of the question or it’s implications.

"I don't know," John shook his head, gently touching his shoulder, "That's with the police."

"They'll hurt me?"

"No, no one's going to do anything," John promised, "You're safe now - it won't go down as murder, there won’t be an repercussions for you."

"What happens to her? I get to keep her, right?"

"You'll be taken to a nice home until we can get you both healthy and caught up with everything, she'll be given a name and documents, everything that she needs, probably vaccines too. Then we can start settling you back into the world."

"Can I name her?"

"Of course, of course you can, you'll be with her all the time, I promise. And I'll be in to see you both most days."

That seemed to make him happy, the girl being put down to hold his hand instead now. “Millie. I want to call her Millie.”

2008

“Go clean yourself up, lad.” Cal rolled off of him, finished with him for the night, “Go on, don’t be sluggish.”

“Cal… something’s wrong,” Brian was holding his middle now there wasn’t a body on him, “Something really hurts.”

“Hmm?” Cal seemed a little bored by the suggestion, slowly turning to put the bedside light on. He looked down to see Brian lying there pale, the cold sweat he’d ignored earlier now very obvious… not as obvious as the blood staining the sheets, fresh and red and ever growing. “For fuck sake… Brian.”

The curly haired man (barely) flinched, trying not to cry, he had no idea what this was, he could be dying, or Cal could’ve broken something in him, “I’m sorry, Cal, I’m s-sorry, I’ll… I’ll clean it u-up, I’m sorry.”

“Go downstairs now. Now!” Cal snapped, “Take these sheets with you, you’ll bleed a few days, we’ll burn them after. I don’t suppose you were far enough along for it to last long.”

Brian bundled up the sheets red faced, he knew he was in trouble now, he’d not ask what was going on, too risky. No, he’d just hope it would end soon.

2018

"So, the plan is," John put them back in the car, it had been less than a week and already they were looking better, washed up and wearing new clothes, the extra food was filling in the hollows of their eyes too, "We're just going to put you in a small village, I'll be there with you, help you around, but for the first few months you don’t have to even leave the house, we’ll see how you’re doing with it all."

"What do we do there?"

"You'll hopefully pick up all the skills you missed," John told him, "And after that you can lead a normal life, we'll get your family back in touch with you, we can get you in touch with other survivors. You're free."

"There's others?"

"We'll get you the support, I promise," John patted his hand, "My colleague, Roger, is already at the house, him and Freddie have some things for you both, household stuff and more clothes, I'll be dealing with paperwork in the meantime."

"What about Millie?" Brian held onto her, "What happens to her?"

"That's what Freddie is for, he's a child psychologist… specialises in people like her, he'll be running some lessons for her in the basic subjects, help her with some developmental things too, see what she knows and what can be done. Here, there's even a swing set in the garden, and some toys for here, just simple things, but that's something."

"Toys?" She spoke at last, "Never had toys."

“We’ll make sure you have some now, teddies and dolls are already in there, but there’s some budget for a few other things,” John promised her, smiling at having gotten through to her finally, “Oh, that’s another thing, all of us will help you budget things properly, until you can manage your own money.”

“Sounds good,” Brian nodded, looking at the new building as they parked and got out, “Is this it?”

“Yeah, it’s not much, but it’s just temporary, we’ll get you somewhere more permanent if this goes well,” John opened the door, all four of them had keys to it, “Still, you’ve got a kitchen, two rooms, bathroom, even a small living room.”

“That’s ‘not much’?” Brian stared at him, “John this place is massive, Millie look, we can see the sky from every room.”

“And the stars?” Millie went towards one of the windows, “Will they happen at night?”

“I hope so.” Brian nodded, “I want you to see the stars with me.”

“Might be lucky, there’s not much light pollution round here, I’m Roger,” Brian spun to find two shorter men looking at them, friendly enough looking - one dark haired with prominent teeth and brown eyes, the one who’d spoken blond and blue eyes like something out of a painting. “This one’s Fred, lovely to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Brian met his hand with a shake, John had been more than happy at how quickly Brian had managed to regain social cues he already would’ve known, he seemed a fast learner anyway, seeming to have matured is enough ways to cope with the outside world (well, not in all ways, they were still running through how to read and write and do sums, but even that was improving in the five days he’d been out), “Thank you for all your help.”

“Hey, it’s cool, anyone would,” Freddie shook his hand too, “You must be little miss Millie, lovely hair you have, I’ll have to teach you how to plait it.”

Millie smiled at that, grinning up at him, still by Brian’s side, but more relaxed now, feeling so much safer than she ever had, even if she’d never known the danger or gravity of the situation she’d been in her whole life.

2011

"Cal?" Brian held his stomach, trying to keep down the water he’d drank earlier as his abductor came in. He was being brought dinner, his 'room' filled with candles since he wasn't allowed to switch the light on at night, he’d been on and off feeling too hot or too cold throughout the last few weeks, so only half of them were lit to keep the temperature manageable. "Cal I don't feel well."

"So you don't want this?" He pulled the bread and butter away from Brian's grasp, "That's a little ungrateful, Brian."

"No, no I do, I just feel dizzy." The twenty two year old shook his head, reaching for the food, who knows when the next meal would come, if he was being rude Cal would purposely take longer, "Eating might help."

"Aren't you getting fat enough?" Cal looked at him impatiently, nodding the small protrusion around his middle, "You should move about more, you've got all this space too."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Cal," he ducked his head, "I don't know what it is."

"Alright, you stay quiet though, I've got my parents visiting, don't want to scare them, do you?"

"No, Cal. Never."

"Good lad, have dinner, get some sleep, you can wash up upstairs in the morning."

"Thanks."

"Good lad."

Brian nodded, watching him leave up the trapdoor. He felt another wave come over him, feeling really bad now - he had no idea what this could even be.

2018

It was three months after they’d been taken out of the basement that Brian was allowed to see his parents. The others were in the next room, and Millie was with them for the moment too (the elderly couple had been informed of their granddaughter, but it was deemed best to not throw them everything at once), playing happily with some crayons.

John’s leg bounced nervously, hearing some crying, happy but heart wrenching sounds coming from next door; of course they were sad and angry still, they’d never get that time back, the damage wasn’t going to go away any time soon.

But in that room they waited for two hours, listening to the conversation, Brian softening the events now, having grasped the concept of right and wrong and knowing that what happened to him was a lot to take in. He didn’t cut anything out, but he didn’t just say it straight up like he had when John had first met him. Actually a lot had changed since then.

Their meetings stopped being therapist-led, so to speak, it became less of John asking questions and Brian answering them and more of them talking, sharing experiences and just becoming friends. And they were pretty good friends by now. Of course there was an element of having to talk about something, but sometimes they didn’t, some days it was just watching a film together or chattering about books, finding silly clips online-

“Deaks, coo-ey,” Freddie waved his hand in front of his face, “You good? They’re asking for Mills.”

“Already?” John looked at the time, realising just how long he’d been daydreaming, “Alrighty then, come with me.”

The eyes met them once they walked in, the tension rising immediately. Millie ran to Brian’s side, the sweet little thing still struggled with new people, and Brian could only comfort her so much while they were right in front of her.

“This is Millie,” Brian said planely, “Mills, these are your grandparents, remember I told you all about them, well the bits I knew.”

“She’s very…” His mum was really trying to like the girl, she had little curls at the end of her hair and the same hazel eyes as Brian, but it wasn’t enough… she looked too much like Cal, too much like the man that had ruined their lives, that had destroyed their little boy, “It’s a lovely name.”

“Yeah, don’t really know why I picked it,” Brian admitted, “Sounded pretty, I always wanted to call her it.”

“That’s good,” Ruth smiled, “We’d better be going, we’ll visit again soon, bring some home cooking, some of your old things, anything you like.”

“So soon?” Brian stood with them, by now John had retreated to the hallway, not wanting to intrude on the picture.

“Yes,” Harold was coping a little better with the girl, but it was still less than ideal, “It’s a lot to get used to… we’ll try our best, we’ll definitely be there for you.”

Brian nodded, showing them out. They accepted him, which was good, and he’d be able to stay with them for a few months around Christmas too. But clearly his daughter was causing the issue, and if the choice had to be made, he’d pick her first; although he knew they would never make him pick.

2012

"Cal!" He screamed up, smashing his fists on the trapdoor as pain banded around his stomach and up his back, "Cal please come down!"

He hunched back over in pain, sobbing as he went back to his mattress, he was dying - he was sure of it. Maybe it was some sort of cancer, those had tumours, right? That's what Cal had joked about when his belly had become a bump, something he had no explanation for.

Whatever it was had been there months now, making him swell up and cry most nights, Cal was never happy with him these days, which wasn't so bad, he didn't spend the nights in his bed now. At first he’d thought it would be whatever the bleeding had been last time, that it would just happen and disappear and they’d never talk about it again. But this time was different, like something was moving, driving him to exhaustion most nights.

But it fucking hurt now.

Maybe he would just die, explode or something, never be found by anyone. Would Cal be angry? Would his parents?

He didn't quite remember their faces as well as he'd like, but he remembers how they talked, and that he had a friend called Tim, and that a small blond had been the last person he saw or spoke to.

He was lost for answers when there was a sort of 'pop' and he felt his trousers become wet, the pain intensifying. Brian pulled the cover over his head after that, Cal wouldn't be happy to find him in this state, making a mess and crying about it, shouting and causing a noise, all the things he was forbidden to do. He held himself carefully, feeling the same movements inside him again, groaning as everything tightened painfully, the pain getting lower each time too.

He had all of about forty minutes before the trap door opened, Cal came through with a box.

"Ready to pop then," Cal put the box by him, "You're lucky, lad, neighbours are all out, don't have to gag you."

"Cal, I don't understand... It really hurts." Brian sat up, thinking he was going to throw up again, "Help me."

"I'm going to, don't you worry," Cal touched his face gently, "Call me again when you need to push, I'll leave the towels and scissors here."

"Scissors? I don't understand, Cal what's happening?" Brian sounded desperate.

"Don't worry, laddie, scissors aren't for you. You're getting a buddy, aren't I nice? Now lie back and try not to fuss too much, it's only going to get worse from here."

"Cal... What if I die?"

"No one will miss you," Cal gave him a serious face, "And the baby isn't my problem, so try not to."

"Baby?" Brian blinked, a contraction stabbing through him.

"You're okay lad, don't worry," Cal told him, "There's no need to cry."

2019

Brian sipped his tea quietly in the kitchen, watching Freddie and Millie play cards in the living room. She was seven now, they’d managed to track her birthday down to January third, and she’d had her first proper birthday at a play park with some other kids, the four of them watching from a distance. Millie was bouncing into society well enough, even her grandad was more forgiving with her, not entirely, but it was slowly getting better.

Freddie was amazed by her progress, she still struggled a lot with numbers and writing, but she picked up stories and facts like a magnet. He said once it was probably the years of limited resources that meant her imagination was so developed, but either way, she was now able to match her age bracket in the artistic subjects, going well above them in history too.

The cards were to help her maths, something that Freddie regretted once she started winning without him letting her, Roger found it hilarious, a certain warmth to him that made every situation seem familiar and comfortable oozed when he was making fun of Freddie. Brian guessed there was maybe something going on there, John did too. The two of them had let Roger and Freddie babysit while they went to a restaurant, Millie thought of them as a pair most of the time too.

Even now, Roger was on the sofa doing sports -like commentary on the game of Go Fish Freddie was losing at. He had no reason to be there, off duty and this wasn’t even his case to begin with, but she seemed to follow where the other two went, and now he had someone to impose his music tastes onto he latched onto Brian too, becoming a friend in his own right.

It was the first time in decades Brian felt so comfortable with people, comfortable enough to let Millie out of his sight, felt like an equal and like he was actually in charge of his own life, like he had a choice in things.

2012

"It really hurts..." Brian whimpered, he didn't feel okay, he felt like he was on fire, being torn apart from the inside, he didn't dare look where Cal was looking. "Just get it out of me."

"Dont be stupid now," He shook his head, "Baby's small anyway, you barely had a bump until the end, you just have to push."

"I don't want a baby, I want to go home."

He regretted saying it as soon as he had, shaking his head and trying to back away, but Cal held him in an iron grip he couldn’t shake.

"We'll talk about that discretion after." Cal told him in a hard voice, suddenly pressing down hard on the top of his stomach, making everything worse.

He barely noticed when a minute later Cal was holding a bloody thing. He didn't even realise what it was.

"Just a girl," he gave her a slap on the back, making her cry, "Not my responsibility this, you feed her and teach her whatever, I'll allow her food when she gets older, nothing else."

Brian was shaking, now holding a tiny little human with shaky hands. The only other person he'd seen in years.

"If she dies she dies," Cal told him, standing up to go, "That's on you."

2019

“You’re ready for the new house you think?” John sat next to him as the credits to the next film started, a plate of lasagna on his lap, “I mean, you can definitely cook, but you can ask for more time if you need it.”

“You’re just used to Freddie and Rog burning everything,” Brian pointed out, “And yes, this place is lovely, but it’s been a year nearly, I want Millie to go to a proper school, want to be able to get back into education myself, get a job soon, I was thinking… I started writing everything down, like you said, could do a book or something.”

“You sure? Everyone would know, you’d get a lot of attention, good and bad,” John looked at him, “Up to you, really. Just have a think about it, okay?”

“I will, I promise,” Brian nodded, “I really can’t thank you enough, you’ve done so much for us.”

“It’s okay, it’s my job,” John told him, watching Brian’s smile falter at that, “And I wanted to. You’re a good person, Bri, it’s an honour to know you.”

“I’m glad it was you too, John. Millie and I couldn’t be in a better place thanks to you.”

2012

"That's okay, isn't it?" Brian looked at her, now she was awake he wished there was enough light to see her properly, "That's almost a blanket."

He'd taken a pillow and wrapped it around her, still using the towels as nappies - he’d have to ask for some thread and a needle to do a better job of it later. She was only a few hours old, and he still had no idea what had even happened, or where Cal went or what to do, but he was going to look after her.

"I don't really know how you got in here, but I'll look after you, alright?" She squirmed around, clinging to his body heat, and he let her, lying down on his side with her tucked against him, “I don’t think Cal will let you have a name, but I will. Mollie? No, no Millie?”

She quietened down as if she agreed, and for all he knew maybe she did, he had no idea what she could and could not do, but that was enough of a sign for him to realise she was his Millie, his responsibility and now his reason to try fight for better conditions.

"Don't worry, baby. I’ve got you. I’ll look after you."

2019

The new house looked perfect in autumn, that was his favourite time of year to see the garden in, Brian decided (they’d moved in in spring, so he’d yet to see winter there, but he was happy enough to cast his choice already), the colours and plants were lovely browns and golds and he liked the sound of the rain on the windows.

He was doing maths and physics in college, trying to get some qualifications before going into a uni course in a few years hopefully. The book was still in the works, whether he published or not, it didn’t really matter to him, he had a home, friends, a future.

He had a life of his own now.

John was popping in for a visit, he knew they were coming to an end of their sessions, but he didn’t really want to let go, not now. They were so close to something, so very close to reaching a different level. Brian watched Fred and Roger and he wanted that for himself.

John came in with a vacant expression not too long after, a silence to him that raised questions, going about the mundane greetings and questions that he normally skipped altogether, asking about how Millie was doing at school and how his own lessons were going, how he was enjoying working a saturday job at the charity shop, how the house was going.

Brian answered him honestly enough, eyes narrowing as John seemed to be dancing around the point, eyes not meeting his. “John, are you okay?”  
“Yeah… Brian, can we talk for a moment,” John ran his fingers through his hair, “There’s been a change.”

“A change?” Brian frowned, patting the space next to him on the sofa, “You’ve got a new case?”

“Yes, well sort of,” John bit his lip, “I have got some new jobs lined up, but that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m leaving this case.”

“Why?” Brian didn’t hide the hurt on his face, “Have we done something wrong?”

“No, not at all, Brian the opposite,” John shook his head, “I can’t work with you if feelings start to get involved… I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you at the end of this job. I want to be able to go places with you as something other than your therapist.”

“Oh,” That was definitely a change, Brian realised, a smile creeping up, “I’d like that too, John. I really would.”

2018

“Where is she!” Cal boomed, red faced and veins bulging on his forehead, scanning the room angrily for the girl. “Brian, tell me. Now!”

“She didn’t mean to,” Brian had told her to go hide under the mattress, to keep very quiet and not to go look for him, “She was trying to help.”

The carpet was still covered in the alcohol she’d been trying to bring Cal, glass bottle smashed on the floor between them.

“I don’t care what she was trying to do, ignorant brat; I’ll wring her neck for this,” Cal pushed him hard out of the way, heading straight for the hatch to the basement, “I’m going to kill her.”

“No, Cal please no,” Brian chased after him, “Please, hit me, Cal not her. You do what you want to me, I’ll take the blame-”

He was met with a hard slap to the face that knocked him back, Cal moving on to the hatch without him. Brian panicked, grabbing the closest thing to hand, a large heavy glass bowl from the table, thunking it down hard against Cal’s head, holding a hand to his mouth when Cal dropped to the ground crumpled, blood already on the wall…

He raced into the hatch, jamming it shut behind him, the bowl still rolling around the floor above him, Millie running to him as soon as he got in. They were both dead now, Cal would be so angry when he woke up - he’d kill them both

2020

Millie’s eighth birthday was a quiet at home affair, just fun and games and laughter, lots of cake and far too much sugar. Roger and Freddie were quietly chattering about kids and hypotheticals and allsorts. But Brian barely heard it.

John was leaning on him, hands entwined together, smiling at the scene around them, a proper family setting they could both enjoy, with friends and nothing to worry about, just a life ahead of them to enjoy, no more basements or controlling or being monitored.

They were free, all was good.

All was good.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading, I really hoped you enjoyed it, or at least found it interesting. Thank you again @sweetillusions for helping me come up with ideas and beta reading (she's just amazing).
> 
> I'd love to see some feedback for this, comments and kudos fuel me.
> 
> Love,  
> From Pluto and back xxx


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